


Talking To The Moon

by unlockthelore



Series: Affections Touching Across Time [12]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigotry & Prejudice, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Internal Conflict, Moral Lessons, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Canon, Resolved Argument, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlockthelore/pseuds/unlockthelore
Summary: On the night of the crescent moon, Rin confronts her fears while carrying the most precious gift she'd been given - life.
Relationships: Rin & Sesshoumaru's Mother (InuYasha), Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Series: Affections Touching Across Time [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713493
Comments: 30
Kudos: 128





	1. A Bitter Dessert

**Author's Note:**

> **[ Timeline Notes ]** In this snippet, Rin is currently **twenty-five** years old.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dead of the night, Rin read and wondered until she received a visit from an unexpected person.

**A Bitter Dessert**

In hindsight, Rin knew it couldn’t have been kept a secret.

Moonlight streamed through the window of her study, strips of silver dancing upon the shaded areas of scrolls where her candles’ amber glow couldn’t reach. She brushed her fingers to her lips and recoiled at the bitter taste of honey between her fingers. A disdainful look, almost sheepish and resigned, cast toward the emptied bowl of candies. Sticky honeysuckle coated the bottom of its wooden surface glinting in the candlelight. Perhaps she had spent too long eating, she thought, as she set the bowl atop of six others piled at the other end of the low table.

Guardsmen and attendants walked quietly about the halls as Rin turned over scroll after scroll. Numerous laid half-rolled and tied in a pile at her side while others were splayed out across the table’s surface, only given sideways glances before being covered with another. Between readings, her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth and the sweetness of honeysuckle gave way to the wanting of something meatier and if possible. A bit bloodier. She groaned into the palm of her hand, the sound almost drowning out the gentle hiss as the door opened.

“Spinning the night away by pouring over scrolls, little bird?” An aristocratic silvery voice called out to her, making Rin twitch upright when she heard.

The doorway was empty save for Inukimi and a plate of steaming cooked venison running just a bit with a pinkish-hue. Rin swallowed thickly, feeling herself salivating but refusing to let it show. Holding her head higher as the demoness slid the door shut and strode over, her robes barely touching the ground with each pace. Yet, she took up a place at Rin’s side, casting the scrolls aside with a slight wave of her hand.

Rin stared in awe as the scrolls curled up at their mistress’ behest and tethered themselves, stacking at the furthest end of the table. The sheer display in power might have been enough to astonish but the dish’s tantalizing spicy scent left all pretense cast aside. Still, she noticed the lack of utensils and glanced aside at Inukimi. Moonlight reflected off her silver-white hair just as she smiled and raised a brow. Expectant and awaiting.

“Only attempting to fill a curiosity, mother,” Rin said, not minding the juice coating her fingers as she squeezed one slice of meat and dangled it before her nose, slipping it into her mouth with a self-assured smile.

Inukimi scoffed, producing a pair of chopsticks from her sleeve. “Sating your curiosities is impossible,” she said, tucking her hands into her sleeves once Rin plucked the utensils from her hand with a beatific smile around the mouthful of meat. “Like picking weeds from a garden. One rises, but others come in it’s place.”

After a few chews and a heavenly sigh, Rin cut a sidelong glance at the bemused demoness. “Are you implying my curiosity is a nuisance?”

“Merely insatiable, my dear,” Inukimi said, waving a hand dismissively. “And easily remedied. After all, who would know better of a union between a inudaiyōkai and human than I?”

With the mistake of setting another piece between her teeth, Rin nearly choked on the the first bite and covered her mouth as she set it down with a clatter. She scooped up a nearby cup and took a long gulp, gasping for breath once she beat her fist against her chest. All the while, Inukimi watched her with careful consideration and concern. Only offering a light pat to the back before her touch receded to the dip of her lap.

Rin cleared her throat, feeling her embarrassment ebb away in return for trepidation. “I’m —”

“— With child,” Inukimi finished.

A deafening silence echoed between them and Rin pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek. She had a wealth of questions concerning Inukimi’s knowledge of inu yōkai and suspicions of her own pregnancy. Though, she knew nothing short of answers and transparency would motivate the demoness to speak candidly. Or at least as candid as she could. Rin clenched her jaw, ruminating over the potential avenues as the candlelight simmered and only made Inukimi’s eyes seem to _glow_.

With a sigh, Rin conceded and started to pick at her food once again. “How did you know…” She asked, taking another bite although mindful to chew slowly lest she be caught unawares and into another fit.

Inukimi seemed pleased by the question and there was a look in her eyes as she regarded Rin — respect, perhaps. “You’ve done well to hide your scent, the sick,” Her gaze flitted to the plate of meat which was almost half-way depleted with how quickly Rin was eating. “And the differences in your appetite — but my son is no fool.”

Any shred of calm Rin retained melted away and battered on her tongue as she thought, with no less love and concern, of her beloved husband. Sesshomaru _was_ no fool but this was not a matter that could be broached easily. Her hand rest at her stomach. It hadn’t been long enough that there was a definite change in her physique but she’d been careful. Perhaps _too_ careful.

“He will know before long,” Inukimi continued, glancing at her coolly. “With or without my involvement.”

Rin bit back a scowl, chewing slowly. The dull humming of the summer heat filling the silence between them. If there was one similarity between Inukimi and Sesshomaru, it was their uncanny way of peeling back the layers of Rin’s decorum with naught a word. It was their eyes. Of that, she was sure. Would their children have the same eyes as their father?

Hand settled over her stomach, Rin felt the energy mingle with the uncertainty. “Hanyō, mother,” she said softly, resting her chopsticks against her plate, her fingers slipping against the wood’s grain.

Inukimi’s sharpened gaze softened with recognition then cooled with acceptance. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Despite all that you’ve become, your children will still be hanyō.”

Although there was a lack of distaste or even a snap in those words, they were a biting chill sending shivers down Rin’s spine. Resignation. Or perhaps, acceptance. She looked at all of the scrolls strewn about. Beautiful script made by the hand of a daiyōkai long past who’d bridged the gap and brought the world two sons who were as different as they were alike, one hanyō and the other not. Her eyes shuttered, lashes brushing against her cheek as she turned her head toward the window where the view of the crescent moon shining down upon the palace twisted her stomach into knots.

Inukimi sighed. “Is your love any lesser?”

“No,” Rin snapped, unable to control her voice in its pitch, almost growling at the thought. Inukimi raised a brow but Rin refused to back down, although her voice softened at the thought of someone with eyes much like hers. “But will his be…?”

“That I cannot say. Is that why you hide from him?”

Rin clamped her mouth shut then shook her head slowly. “No.”

“You wished to be prepared,” Inukimi suggested, tipping her head to one side.

Rin nodded. To doubt her husband was impossible. She trusted him with her entire self but it was the implication — the dangers to which carrying a hanyō posed — that worried her. Could he continue to live happily should she die?

Inukimi’s expression smoothed in relief, a motherly touch brushed against the swell of Rin’s cheek and curving to the underside of her jaw, tipping her head up. “I’m afraid where children are concerned, plans never are as they seem,” she said, the look in her eyes almost sympathetic. “I only worry for you, little bird. I pass no judgment. They _are_ my grandchildren after all.”

Then, it dawned upon her. “You speak as if there are…”

Inukimi chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her sleeve. “Multiple?” She offered, a mischievous glint to her eyes. “Oh, yes. Two, in fact.”

Rin leant away from her touch, nearly inching back from the softened pillow she sat on. Her hand pressing to her stomach as if she could feel not one but both children. “Twins…?”

“Twin _girls_ ,” Inukimi corrected, joyous in the upturned curve of her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never grow tired of Inukimi and Rin's bantering in ATAT. I touched on it some in It Takes A Village, but these two are rather close, and Inukimi may have rubbed off on Rin in many ways. With her and Kaede as motherly-figures, Rin becoming a sassy soul is pretty understandable. Anyhow, you guessed it, this is before the birth of Towa and Setsuna. I'm not sure how far along Rin is but she's been hiding it for some time and mulling things over with the help of the late Inu no Taishō.
> 
> I could ramble on and on about my ideas and what was going through my mind writing this but honestly, I believe it speaks for itself.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and see you in the next update.


	2. Experience the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mother-to-be asks for the wisdom of a mother fully realized and finds that experience is the best teacher.

**Experience the Unknown**

To Rin’s relief, Inukimi had enough foresight to have another plate delivered outside of the study. Pretense cast aside in favor of near ravenous hunger pinking Rin’s ears when she noticed the demoness staring at her amusedly. She was vaguely aware of the sight she made. Cheeks stuffed with food, a dribble slipping down her chin wiped away with the crook of a finger, and wide-eyed at being caught. Inukimi’s laughter was quiet but loud in the study’s silence and Rin’s face burned as she pawed at her mouth in an effort to hide the mess, swallowing a mouthful thickly. 

“So,” Inukimi began. A short, light chuckle hidden behind the drape of her sleeve when Rin glanced in her direction. One claw tapped at the corner of her lips and Rin swiped at her own. “Tell me what you’ve been feeling.”

For a brief, almost painfully long moment, Rin considered a half-truth but Inukimi’s knowledge _was_ invaluable and for all her aloofness — the demoness proved to be family thoroughly. Wracking her brain for the last few weeks of sickness swallowed with mint leaves and spring water, hunger tempered by requesting to cook her own food to the cooks’ confusion, and constant glimpses into mirrors at her body’s shape. Hands resting against the flat of her stomach to her navel’s dip in wonder of what it would be when she showed. Excitement joined with fear distracting her from the presence at her back.

Silver hair slipping over her shoulder as lips pecked at the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine just as a yelp rose up her throat. Golden eyes met her own in the mirror’s reflection and the fear is assuaged temporarily. Sesshomaru asked her what was wrong every time he caught her standing before the mirror undressed. Misunderstanding her half-hearted excuses for a lack of confidence in her body, and far too eager to show how he disagreed. 

“Perhaps you can keep the thoughts of your moments together for another time, little bird.”

Rin lurched out of her thoughts to find Inukimi staring at her amusedly, one brow raised and her hands resting in her lap all too politely for the smugness radiating from her. 

“H—“ Rin started, then clamped her mouth shut. If she asked her how she knew then that would be acceptance but if she said nothing, that wouldn’t be a firm denial. Groaning inwardly, she shoved thoughts of Sesshomaru aside and hoped they wouldn’t find home with the guiltier ones. After a short while of scanning her fingertips, counting and mulling it over, Rin murmured. “Hunger…”

Inukimi set the empty plate aside the others and tapped her claws against one of the scroll’s knobs. “In appetite or…” Her voice trailed off, gaze flicked to the doorway and Rin bristled.

“ _Mother_!”

“I only tease, little bird. Now go on. Tell me something I’m not _entirely_ aware of.”

Rin wanted to protest there was little she didn’t know of but cheekiness wouldn’t help her in this situation. Thinking back to a strategy meeting some few nights ago, her brows furrowed. “Perhaps a _little_ aggression…”

“Little?” Inukimi scoffed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “That isn’t what General Harikawa would say.”

Rin breathed heavily, scrunching her nose and turning her head aside to glare out the window. Even the mention of the craggy-faced inu yōkai was enough to make her skin want to crawl.

“He would object to the sun rising in the east if it would spite me.” She flicked her hair behind her shoulder with a sharp twist of her head, glancing out the corner of her eye to Inukimi. 

The demoness seemed not only amused but curious. She studied her for a moment with narrowed golden eyes. Then, she smiled. “You are starting to behave like Sesshomaru.” 

Before Rin could respond, Inukimi reached out to cup her jaw and tip her head one way then the other. The touch was gentle but her eyes were calculating in their depths as if she was searching for something Rin could not yet see.

“Perhaps it’s the prolonged explosure,” she murmured thoughtfully, seeming to speak more to herself than Rin much to her chagrin. “He _has_ been kinder since you both wed. Mm, no. Even before then. He would never have greeted me in my palace with such kindness.”

She drew her hand away and Rin lowered her head. Thoughts turning back to the day she’d first met the demoness, Sesshomaru’s reaction to her didn’t seem warm in the slightest. At least now how Rin would have greeted her own mother if she were still living. But she was aware of the difference in their relationship and their stilted ways of showing affection. That Sesshomaru recognized her _as_ his mother spoke volumes in itself. Had he not before? Was there a period in their relationship where they were so at odds that he distanced himself from her? Could it have been her doing or his own? A misunderstanding?

“ _Breathe_ , Rin.”

A muted touch, warm and grounding, dragged Rin back into her body. Someone was breathing — short and uneven — and it took her a painfully long moment to realize that it was _her_. Evening her breaths to the slow counts of Kaede’s voice within the reaches of her mind, she sighed longingly and tucked herself closer to Inukimi’s side. Head pillowed against the demoness’ shoulder, fur soft against her cheek, Rin felt much younger than what she was especially when Inukimi’s fingers glided through her hair.

“I’ve read almost _every_ account of a hanyō’s birth, which isn’t much, but…” 

“You have no clue of what it will be to experience your own.”

Rin sighed, nuzzling her face against the fur lining of Inukimi’s cloak, her eyes shutting tight. “Or what mother I will be.”

They both lapsed into silence. Slender fingers slipped through Rin’s hair with ease, patting down the mused strands with each stride then returning to the top of her head to begin anew. Upset began to even out. Rin couldn’t tell if Inukimi thought little of her for being this concerned, or if she simply was allowing her to vent her frustrations. Her mother-in-law was incredibly difficult to gather a reading on, and wonderfully adept at dodging questions with relative ease. Her displeasure was felt in small potent doses and Rin hardly wanted to experience it, especially now when she needed her most. Although her thoughts were admittedly furtherest from Inukimi, and even the few souls wandering about the palace. Her mind lingering to the east near a quiet village that’d grown into an outpost in the recent years.

“When I lived with Lady Kaede, I helped with so many births. Some mothers took to their children quickly but others grew to hate or despise them…” 

She could still see the faces, young as her own, but weary and despondent. Their souls aged beyond their body’s youth. It hurt her heart to see their child’s cries cause them to shiver. And when their husbands came to bring them home, they begged her and Kaede to allow them to stay for a few days longer. Some of the girls returned home, but others disappeared off into the night, with only the belongings brought to them for their comfort. 

“Too many girls whispered to me that they felt they weren’t ready. They couldn’t mother a child, they had barely _lived_ , and yet… it was expected….”

Something bitter touched her lips at the thought. Kaede’s reassurances that she would never have to marry unless she wanted held true, but the priestess kept her busy, kept her curious, kept her thinking. An unwed woman — beautiful, opinionated, and strong — would be the envy of her peers and a target for men. Whether Rin believed the world to be better than that or not, her experiences showed that a person’s nature had a duality, and not all sides were benevolent. Kaede wanted her to stand on her own two feet, live proudly the way she chose, but also safely. 

And Rin couldn’t thank her enough for the lessons she taught. 

Rin sighed. “I was fortunate to have a different life, to live as I wanted, but I’ve always had a desire for adventure and to see the world with my own eyes. Will that change once they’re born or will I—” 

She cut off abruptly, the unspoken words hovering in the air where they evaporated into vapors, choking her with their essence. Laying her hand on her stomach, Rin curled her fingers in her obi and bid the children within her to forgive her for what she might have said. She clutched her obi tightly, twisting it until the fabric was fit to tear. Clawed fingers brushing against her knuckles then settling over the back of her hand, delicately easing it from her obi.

“That you can’t bring yourself to say it conveys more than you know.”

Rin pursed her lips and lowered her eyes to the stack of bowls. She knew being unable to say the words she’d been holding back was one thing. Guilt at having thought them were another. No one deserved to be thought of that way and no amount of fear would justify it.

“Regardless of what anyone may claim, Sesshomaru was not born for the sake of an heir.”

The sudden confession drew Rin from her hiding place. She looked up at Inukimi confused at the abrupt display of honesty but the demoness was as unfazed as ever. 

“I loved Tōga with all that I am,” she said wistfully, glancing toward the scrolls. “And Sesshomaru was not what either of us planned, but when I sent a missive telling him I was with child — he was at my side by the next moon.”

She chuckled softly and Rin couldn’t help but smile. Her readings of the late daiyōkai painted him as quite the character. He reminded her of Inuyasha with Sesshomaru’s grace, but there were moments where he was as stately as he could be childish. And he loved Inukimi. His glowing accounts of her from her ruthlessness to her quiet affections were in _detail_ , and Rin couldn’t bare to read it all if she wanted to look her mother-in-law in the eye. 

She began to gather the scrolls, setting them inside of the polished lacquered box adorned with the Inu no Taishō’s symbol. Inukimi handing her few when she couldn’t hold them all within her arms. 

“Conquests took him from me so often, but he returned time and time again, laid with me as if we were first wed and spoke to our son so he would always remember his father’s voice.”

WIth rapt attention, Rin tried to summon the image but no painting or tale spun from Myoga and Totōsai’s ramblings could do Tōga justice. Instead, she thought fondly on Sesshomaru. She hardly expected him to be the doting type but to speak to his daughters before they were born. Let them hear their father’s voice and know they were loved. She blinked away her awe and smiled at Inukimi, who stared wistfully out the opened window. 

“When Sesshomaru was born, I expected the love Tōga felt to fade, yet it only grew stronger…”

Rin’s smile faltered slowly. Inu yōkai were difficult in regards to kin. Territory, pride, strength, duty, loyalty — it was all so important to them that it seemed seemed into their very being. That Tōga loved Sesshomaru so fiercely was strange in itself by their standards. Few of the journals she read depicted an inu yōkai increasingly hostile toward its young, especially the men toward their sons. If a son were to grow and overthrow their father then allowing them to reach adulthood would be foolish. No matter the need for an heir, to dwindle and die by one’s emotion was a fool’s death.

“I expected to find myself weary of being tethered to this helpless and needy being, eventually finding him to be a burden, and kill him when it suited my needs.”

Rin stiffened at the admittance, and Inukimi turned almost lazily in response. She raised a brow as if asking her to question it but Rin couldn’t find it in herself to. Those feelings, while not as profound, were the same in a human woman. It was ugly. Unkind, and terrible to a child who was blameless but the world could be cruel. 

After a lengthy silence where they did little but keep one another’s gaze while the winds called, rattling the tiles on the roofs and shivering the trees, Inukimi sighed. 

“And yet he still breathes,” she murmured, a touch of awe in her voice as if confused by it herself. “Not all mothers are the same, Rin. We are not always good, and we are not always just, we may think ill of our children but they are ours, we must remember that. If not, we may live to regret it.”

All at once despite the youthfulness of her features, Inukimi seemed to age before her eyes. She held out an arm and Rin settled against her. Nimble fingers stroked her hair, a strange yet comforting sensation reminding her of a woman long dead and buried but still fond in her memories. Her own mother had been rather stern and if she had lived to see this day, she might have grown to like Inukimi and perhaps Sesshomaru. Tears welled in her eyes and she pressed her face to Inukimi’s fur, hoping to lose the overwhelming sadness. Never would her parents lay eyes on their grandchildren or her brother become a man full grown and spoil them as he did her with songs, games, stories, and sweets. 

“Does he know… how you felt about him…?” 

“When he was of age,” Inukimi said resignedly. “His heart had grown colder and his eyes blind to that which was around him. To watch him walk this Earth was a corpse masquerading as my child.”

Rin considered it to be her love for Sesshomaru that incited embers of discontent at those words but they were doused in a frigid realization as she leant back, finding Inukimi’s eyes. “… Was this after his father…”

She nodded.

“Why?” Rin hissed in abject horror, leaning further out of the demoness’ grip.

Inukimi released her with little fight. “I wanted to remind him that we choose who we are — what we wish to do — who we wish to love,” she said crisply. “Sesshomaru had grown into what some would call a monster. To me, he was my beloved son. No matter the atrocities he committed.”

Cracks showed in her impassive visage. A slight furrow in her brow bespoke of contempt while the barest downward flick of her eyes was shame. Rin’s anger slipped aside. She’d seen those very same emotions on another face, one that she’d held cupped in her hands often to bid him to look at her. She was no stranger to Sesshomaru’s nature. It would’ve done not only him but her a disservice if she brushed it aside. And yet, she loved him fiercely. Aware, and accepting. 

Inukimi had been known to be an observer. Watching over not only him but Inuyasha, or so she said.

“I saw his rouse using the Mu-on’na, and when Inuyasha cut him down, I wept for him.”

There was a harshness to her words and a cold look in her eyes. Rin suppressed a shiver, her stomach knotting as she recalled the story Kagome told her. 

“You didn’t save him…” Rin whispered, disbelieving and sick with understanding. 

“I can’t deny I felt some satisfaction. His behavior was unruly... though I know where it was born from — to see her memory tarnished in such a way was nothing short of repulsive.”

Inukimi stared at her longingly, and Rin knew she wasn’t asking for forgiveness or understanding. As a mother, she couldn’t fathom the choice. As a lover, she could. If someone were to come to her in Sesshomaru’s form while her heart yearned for him, she would have struck them down. Without hesitation. Rin closed her eyes for a moment, and they sat in a respectful silence. 

“I watched him fall, and in that moment, I saw you.” 

Rin slowly opened her eyes, lifting her gaze to Inukimi’s face. Lost was the frigid chill and its accompanying expressionless mask. Her stiffened frown bending into a sweet smile, appreciative and kind. 

“A foolish and stubborn little girl… brave enough to pour water over the head of one of the most dangerous daiyōkai of this age.” Inukimi laughed, and Rin’s cheeks burned at the memory. She couldn’t help but laugh as well remembering the drowned almost stricken look on Sesshomaru’s face then. 

As they sobered from laughter, Inukimi sighed longingly. “You returned life to my son’s eyes, and coaxed his heart to thaw.” She patted Rin’s hand gently, curving her fingers in the crook of her thumb, holding it tenderly. “Just as he sought to return you to life, and now, you both have _created_ life.”

Rin swallowed thickly, laying her hand over her stomach. 

“That is no small feat, Rin…” Inukimi squeezed her hand then glanced aside, quick and intent, her gaze lingering on the door for a split second. Rin looked back, her eyes softened, lidded as she looked down at her lap. “A mother’s love is not a fragile thing when it’s true.”

Rin was quiet for a moment, allowing seconds to pass before she asked in a quiet voice. “How long was he outside the door?”

“You’ve spent much of the night here,” Inukimi pointed out, and Rin wilted, lowering her head. “Did you not think he would come looking for you?”

A part of her had hoped. Though she knew if she saw him, she would have put this off for another day, assured herself she needed a bit more time. That she _had_ more time. But the time had come and she would need to rise to meet it. With a squeeze to Inukimi’s hand, Rin slowly stood, and let her fingers slip from the demoness’ grasp. 

She was shooed away from trying to gather the bowls and plates, nodding graciously as she walked to the door. Her hands curled close to her stomach as she stood before it, thinking to herself. 

“Thank you.”

Inukimi looked up from one of the scrolls she’d begun to undo, then rolled her gaze down to its tie. “You seemed to need the reassurance,” she said loftily. “And I don’t mind. It’s rare when _you_ show hesitance.” 

Rin smiled to herself at the backhanded compliment. “Not that…” She lifted her head, looking over her shoulder. “Thank you for bringing him into the world.”

It was Inukimi’s turn to be silent but unlike her, Rin didn’t want or wait for an answer. Sliding open the door and shutting it softly behind her before following the trail of her restless husband. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hardest part of it all is describing what hasn't been written yet. Yes, in ATAT's verse, Inukimi was just as in love with Izayoi as Tōga was. Although their story is something that may have to be touched on another time and when I have the space for more long-fics. To put it mildly, love is a strong and terrifying thing depending on how it's interpreted. Even the love between a mother and child, and a husband and wife.
> 
> But that's neither here nor there now! The next chapter, and the last, is one I've been anticipating from the beginning of this. See you all there and thank you for reading!


	3. Restless Nightly Pursuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idly restless through the night, sleep is impossible to find when answers are roaming the palace halls.

**Restless Nightly Pursuits**

_How could I have not known?_

The question was at the forefront of Sesshomaru’s mind as he stormed through the halls, attempting to put as much distance as possible between himself and the study. He could feel Rin’s presence at his back. Hear wood rattling in its frame as the door slid open and her scent — _gods,_ her scent. She always smelt of blossoms and woodlands, ink and paper, the ocean and all its arcane wonders, but beneath it was what he’d been ignorant of. 

A child.

Children, if his mother were to be believed. 

Girls.

Twins.

And his wife knew, but she deemed him unfit of such knowledge. For how long?

His skin crawled, claws brushing against the palm of his hand as his fingers curled into fists beneath the drape of his sleeves. Gentle words and tender touches to guide her from her studies to the comforts of the bath he’d drawn for her were mottled in the disgusting bitterness soured on his tongue. Poison burned beneath his claws, and the fissures gathered on his heart widened as pain throbbed with every beat. His fur rippled wildly on his shoulder as he drew in a deep breath, forcing the molten touch of his poison away from his claws in order to slide open one of the doors. 

Outside. 

Fresh air.

He needed to find release before something untoward came forth. Traitorously, his feet led him further from the open flatlands near the forefront of the castle. Terraced land, dipping into a grassy hillside where at the base rested a thicket of trees meandering around a rocky cliffside — The expanse of the ocean was open to behold past the veritable wall of nature, and it was where Sesshomaru intended as he took to the skies. 

Distance.

He needed distance from all which lingered behind him, but he couldn’t go far. His wife, the mother of his _children_ , lingered on the grounds, and he would be loath to abandon her. 

_Abandon Rin?_

As quickly as he took to the skies, he landed on the thick and sprawling grassland. Bade himself not to think of the water glistening upon curved blades of grass speaking of the earlier rainfall. How his wife would have buried her toes in the soil and called for him to do the same. 

_If she is with child, would she not grow ill if —_

Sesshomaru clenched his jaw to stifle the surging growl and marched down the hillside, unperturbed by the incline. If he closed his mind for a moment and pretended the trees surrounding him as he stepped into the thickets were that of the forests he used to roam, then perhaps it would ease him. Thoughts of the castle, of the woman who was waiting for him or perhaps _searching_ for him, set aside. 

How could he yearn for her as much as he wanted to be upset with her?

_Does she not trust me?_

Bright-eyed Rin with her wit and smiles, always at his side, assuring him with soft touches and imploring glances. She coaxed him to calm more than once, showedfaith in him to protect her, and later on, entrusted him with her body and soul . Sesshomaru’s eyes shuttered as he turned his head away from the notion of distrust. His wife was loyal to a fault. Even if her very life were in imminent danger, she would put her faith in him just as she had done time and time again.

_So why now?_

He tried to breathe in, but the air was thick and humid, refusing to slip down his throat, instead clogging and suffocating. What was this feeling? He hated it. Hated this urge to lash out — to question her on why — to see beyond the smiles that constantly blinded him with their beaming radiance . 

_Will that change once they’re born, or will I—_

Sesshomaru drew in a large breath to steady himself. What would she say then? Did she regret this? What they had done, what they had _created_ together? A burning pain cracked at the fissures in his heart, and he turned his head away, forcing the rippling of his fur to cease. 

No. She hadn’t said it, he hadn’t _felt_ discontent in her heart, but she’d been hiding this. 

Hiding from him.

_Regardless of what anyone may claim, Sesshomaru was not born for the sake of an heir._

And his mother _knew_. He wanted to scoff. Of _course_ she knew. She always knew what others didn’t and kept the information to herself until it suited her needs to reveal it. But this revelation explained much: whyshe was adamant in helping him with affairs, bidding Rin to rest, or insisting that they spend time together. During all that time, he hadn’t noticed a thing.

_I expected to find myself weary of being tethered to this helpless and needy being, eventually finding him to be a burden, and kill him when it suited my needs._

_Why?_

The tip of his boot caught on a root while the other skidded in the grass, jerking him forward. Silver-white hair veiled half-lidded eyes as he stared listlessly at his own shadow. It wasn’t a secret. He knew inuyōkai weren’t always accommodating or wanting of their offspring. His mother’s affections were peculiar, to say the least, while his father’s were occasional. Did Rin find fault in that? The scandalized way in which she gasped, the indignation in her voice — was it out of concern, or did she doubt what he would desire?

Children. Did she think he would abandon them as his father abandoned him? 

No matter how desperately he tried to wrap his mind around it and force her away from thought, she would always return, and he would find himself staring into the memory of her eyes, her smile gone and replaced by a sullen thoughtful expression. Brown irises darkened, pupils dilated and dreadfully saddened —

_Sesshomaru._

He twitched upright and jerked his entangled foot forward, ripping forth the sunken roots and flinging dirt into the air. His energy crackled. Teeth elongating, then shortening painfully,he tried to keep himself from transforming as he briskly strode through the forest until the sky opened up before him and the cliffside was centimeters from the tips of his boots. From the precipice, he could view the foamy darkened depths crashing against the shore, then receding. His breaths were short; shoulders rising, then falling slowly; red tinging the corners of his quivering, swimming vision. Looking up to the sky, the moon was dreadfully familiar.

_Mikazuki_. 

A crescent moon, just like the one he’d been born with. 

What would it be like for them? His daughters. Would they have the same moon as his birth, or would they be without it? Perhaps they would have ears as his half-brother did, or take on their mother’s appearance... 

He wouldn’t have known. 

Ruefully, his lips pulled back into a sneer, blinking slowly to chase away the stinging heat gathering at the back of his eyes. He wasn’t sure for how long he stood there or when the clouds began to roll across the sky, dimming moonlight washing over him. Left in semi-somnolent darkness, Sesshomaru inhaled , then closed his eyes as the sound of wet grass squelching underfoot accompanied a quiet voice. 

“You heard.”

He knew this conversation would come, but he hardly wanted it to ensue. 

_No, I did._

Knowing would set these bitter feelings aside, yet he couldn’t bring himself to turn and face her. Out of not wanting to show her _this_ side of him or to feel compelled to forget and draw her into his arms.

Answers.

What he needed were _answers_. 

“Did you intend for it not to reach?” Sesshomaru asked, fighting to keep his voice steady. 

Rin was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke, her voice was filled with an assurance and stability he envied. “I had to be certain of what I wished to do,” she said.

Sesshomaru bristled at that. What _she_ wished to do. His mother had made it clear that _they_ created life, yet she kept him ignorant. Complacent. And for _what_? His jaw clenched painfully, fang pressed to the skin of his lip. 

“Then it was needed to deceive, Rin?” He asked, barely able to keep the contempt from his voice. “To keep me _ignorant_ of their existence.”

_Do you not trust me, Rin?_

“What are you saying?”

Sesshomaru blinked, and despite all of his composure, all of his struggling to not look at her, he glanced over his shoulder. Rin was staring at him, her brown eyes narrowed . True, he’d seen her withering glares, brows furrowed as she began to unleash fury upon someone foolish enough to insult her. But it was never directed toward him. Not until today. Rin glared at him scathingly — disbelief, hurt, and anger deadened in chilled, honey brown eyes.

“This isn’t something I can simply be prepared for, it isn’t an eventuality I _expected_. I never _considered_ being a mother. We never spoke of _having_ children — “

Sesshomaru scoffed, turning on his heel to face her, feeling the venom on his tongue as he spat. “You never asked.”

Rin recoiled, her face crumpling for a second, then she rose , her shoulders tensed and hands balled into fists. “Because I know you…” She trailed off, the words tense, and bit into him for as they left her lips, he saw the sheen in her eyes. “You _despise_ hanyō.”

And there it was. The fact that he’d overlooked this entire time. His wife, his beloved wife who would be the mother of his children _was_ human. Half their child’s blood would be hers, and the other would be his own. A voice, whispering from the distant past, told him it would be disgusting. The proud bloodline of his father’s would be sullied by yet another hanyō, and this time, it would be of his own making. 

He wasn’t sure what expression he showed, but Rin’s face fell and her eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. Sesshomaru tried to force the air to course through his lungs. 

“I had no desire to follow the path of a _normal_ girl,” Rin hissed, stamping her foot in the soil. “No man nor woman I cared for long enough to lay with and _consider_ a family until _you_ began to travel with me again.”

Sesshomaru jerked his head away. He didn’t want to hear that. He’d come to terms with the idea that Rin had loved others. It was within her rights. He made her a promise, but gave her the room to search her heart. To explore what it is she wanted from the world that had denied her the right to live . If he’d come back to the village where they parted ways and found her married with child —

“I’m frightened, Sesshomaru.”

Those words wrenched him from his thoughts, and he tugged his head up. Senses heightened as he became acutely aware of the world around them. There were no threats he could cut to ribbons with his claws or melt to nothing with poison. No. The only threat present was Rin looking at him. Her voice rose above the crashing waves against the rocky cliffside. 

“I am scared more than you know,” she seethed, and the hurt cracked at her voice just as the threshold blocking the tears she’d been blinking away began to falter. “You have every right to be angry, I won’t _deny_ you that. But I do not want to do this _without_ you.”

But she would. The words unspoken weren’t a threat. No, they were a promise. Rin was independent of him in both mind and body. She would make her own choices as she deemed fit — as she’d always done — as he once _bade_ her to do. Even in this, with the lives that they created, she would take it into her own hands. Sesshomaru stiffened his jaw, stamping down his turmoil at the scent of her tears. 

_How could you think to do this without my involvement, Rin? I am always —_

“I need to know that you are beside me, that you can set aside this silly prejudice.”

His thoughts spilled from her lips, and he recoiled with such ferocity that his heel clipped a deep crevice in the earth.

“ _Silly_?” He uttered in a tense graven tone, shocked and exasperated at being referred to in that manner. 

Rin didn’t seem swayed by his tone or otherwise, her arms folded loosely over her chest. Sesshomaru’s gaze flicked to her wrist where the sleeve of her yukata fell back, exposing smooth skin without the cloth bracers she’d don into battle. He didn’t expect for Rin to take arms against him. Never once had she raised a hand to him, albeit she was adept at making her words sharper than her knives. 

“And what would you call it?” She demanded fretfully, a wrinkle in her nose as she tipped her head to one side. The uneven fringe of her bangs darkened the shadows around brown eyes, which were almost _glowing_ in the dim light. “What reason could you have for hating hanyō as you do? You feel they are beneath you? Just as humans are — as I am?”

Before he could think to rein in his tone, Sesshomaru growled. “ _You_ are not beneath me.”

How could she say something like that? For a second, the displeased look gave way to one of fleeting affection, and he brieflyyearned for the Rin who smiled at him warmly. Not the incandescent woman who glowered at him a second later, unapologeticallyerasing the kindly expression of his beloved wife. 

“I am an exception then?” She shifted her stance to set her hands upon her waist, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her fingers lingered at her abdomen. “Will your daughters also be an exception, Sesshomaru? How will you _justify_ it to them?”

He almost wanted to say that he did not have to. When they were born, he would protect them with all that he had because they were _theirs_. Part of them was Rin, and he loved her. That they were hanyō was unavoidable. Why was that not _enough_ for her?

“Where does this stem from, Rin?”

He had to know: whatdrove the wedge between them that she could not speak to him as candidly as she did now? He stared at her, and she looked away. It was enough to loosen his tongue, but he bid himself not to say a word. Give her time. Give her a _choice_. Even if she seemed keen on taking his own away with nary a word. 

After a moment of painfully long silence, resignation flickered across her face. “Inuyasha.”

Sesshomaru scoffed at the name and turned his head away, but Rin wouldn’t allow him to evade thr topic . She hardly ever did. Now, as they stood on the precipice with only the sea behind them and their home before them, there was nowhere for either of them to flee . 

“He is the _root_ of all of your hate towards hanyō.”

“This has _nothing_ to do with him.”

“Don’t you _dare_ lie to me, Sesshomaru.”

The image of her displeasure in his mind paled considerably in comparison to the dark, terrible expression marring her face. She flung a hand aside sharply, the grass bending upon the breeze as if answering her call. 

“You felt scorn toward your brother for your father’s demise — because he fell protecting him and his mother —”

“He was a _fool_ —”

“He was a _father_ protecting his _child_ ,” Rin gestured aggressively to her abdomen, curling her fingers in the silken fabric. “It didn’t matter if Inuyasha’s blood was _tainted_ by humanity, he loved his _son_.  And _you_ hated your brother for so long, enforced this idiotic belief that he was beneath you to wallow in your own pain and justify your actions against him. ”

Sesshomaru turned his head away. He didn’t want to hear this. Not from her. Though, when he closed his eyes, he could see Inuyasha and the priestess Kagome as she’d been then. A wide-eyed andterrified teenage girl clinging to his half-brother’s sleeve. 

“You _used_ his mother’s image to _trick_ him.”

Inuyasha’s eyes, golden and glazed over, unseeing him but someone else. He couldn’t see past the demoness’ guise. It was according to his plan, a foolish mistake on the hanyō’s part. Sesshomaru suppressed a tick of annoyance at how he referred to his brother then. Inferior, lacking, sentimental. 

What he saw was the face of his dearly departed mother. The woman who caused their father’s demise all so that he could live. And what a wretch he’d grown to be. 

_He isn’t any longer._

Why the Mu-on’na protected him, Sesshomaru couldn’t understand at the time , but the pain in Inuyasha’s eyes when their gazes met — he felt satisfaction. 

Now, it was a acrid memory of his failures in the pursuit of what would have never been his. Slowly, he met Rin’s eyes . Her shoulders undulated heavily, and the smell of tears had only grown stronger. Pain. She was in pain. 

_I am the cause._

No, this started with _her_ deceit. Hadn’t it?

“Are you my judge then?” Sesshomaru questioned in a low tone, almost lost to the night with how airy and light his voice had become. “Is this your punishment — to withhold this from me? Shame me?”

He could see them before, but now as the clouds rolled past, moonlight spilled into their small pocket of the world and glistened on streaks of silver tracking down her cheeks. She shook her head slowly, the corners of her lips twitched upward, but there was no mirth to be found. Her eyes were wet, lashes heavy and fluttering shut as she closed her eyes. 

“This is my evidence. My evidence of what I _need_ from you…” 

His fingers twitched at his side. The urge to reach out and wipe away her tears stilled by her own hand raising to do the deed itself. 

“Set aside your prejudice, _learn_ from your mistakes, and be better for it…” Her shaky breaths were beginning to even, and when her hand pulled away, the disheartened woefulness in her eyes was replaced with a fierce assertion. “Because you were _wrong_.”

The tight grip on her yukata eased. Silk smoothed out with gentle brushes. His gaze transfixed on each sweep of her fingers as if he could see past the tranquil veneer she’d set. 

“Because if you raised a hand to these children as you did your own brother, I—” 

Sesshomaru’s eyes widened, and Rin’s face fell. Their eyes met, and not a word had to be said. He could feel the intent behind her pause . Her calm mask had cracked, replaced with a horrific and fearful expression. His own facade schooled into neutrality despite the sudden upset at the implication.

“Would you threaten harm to me…” His voice trailed off as he watched her shift from one foot to the other, her gaze falling to her feet. Disbelief crept into his voice as he called out to her. “Rin?”

Her eyes closed. “To protect our daughters?” She started resolutely, a fatigue and sadness engulfing her face as she met his eyes. Her brown almost deepened to a murky black.

“Without question.”

Sesshomaru straightened and this time, when he turned away from her, he didn’t look back. Rin’s footsteps were deafening. Each one guided her further from him to the thicket of trees and beyond to the palace. 

Standing alone on the edge, Sesshomaru looked to the crescent moon in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this chapter is done! A lot of things were happening yesterday which actually led to this chapter's completion to which I'm both surprised and amazed! While it did end off on a sour note, I'd like to bring up a few things -
> 
> 1) Rin and Sesshomaru, the entire time, were both at war in my head. They both had a point and an equal stake in all of this but the focal point is something that you, the reader, may have noticed. In the end, their argument and the thoughts they feel come from a place that they both despise.
> 
> 2) The grounds of the Western Palace is something that I'm mulling over constantly, but the cliffsides where the ocean is at view, is what comforts them both the most. And in many fics of mine where it's just the two of them - the pivotal moments happen somewhere near water or in the forest. They're both nomadic people and feel the best around wood and grass rather than brick and mortar.
> 
> 3) A lot of the feelings outlined on either side open up a wealth of thought on where their story goes and what lies behind them. 
> 
> But don't fear, there's one chapter left. Until then, you can check me out for updates on Twitter at **unlockthelore** and see my original writing on **Tapas**. 
> 
> Thank you so much for supporting me thus far and reading this story.
> 
> See you next time.


	4. Discomfort Washes Away Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their love is a garden. Doubt wilts the flowers grown meticulously through hardships and compromise. Yet, with a rain shower brought on by discomfort, they can begin anew.

**Discomfort Washes Away Doubt**

For the first time in years, Sesshomaru found himself at a loss.

Vague hopes that Rin would return to finish the onslaught she’d started were dashed after seconds bled into minutes and blurred by the hour. Only the winds, the ocean, and the disinterested night sky were to bear witness to the burdens laden on his shoulders. Tattered ribbons of self-control binding him to the cliff’s edge. He couldn’t stray further from where he was, for it would leave him too far should she be thrown into danger. Regardless, he couldn’t bring himself to be in her presence with the weight of her threats and betrayal scarring his love for her. 

_How could she threaten me?_

Admittedly, it should have been laughable. He was a daiyōkai with centuries of experience in combat and held the ability to heal himself at will. To fear a human would have been ridiculous. However, the power Rin held over him was a force he could not fight off with claw or blade. If harm were to come to her or if her life were to be lost to him, then he would mourn.

Deeply. 

Without end.

For as much as her treachery cut him, memories of her love soothed the wound’s burn and drew him closer into her ambience in spite of the gap she set between them. He clenched his jaw, teeth gritting and fangs elongating as he cursed her tepidly. A fragment of his pride wished for him to be spiteful. This palace, whilst part of his father’s legacy, served as a glorified reminder of all that he was denied. Let it fall into disarray for all that he cared — his life was his own, and he’d only returned at the demand of his _birthright_ , at the behest of his _companion_ who’d then become his wife, and at his mother’s insistence.

What would it matter if it were to fall? Surely, they would be able to handle the resulting chaos on their own. He was unneeded. The thought was a sharp, biting one and left him hollow rather than fulfilled. If he were to leave and abandon them all as they were, then how could he ever look Rin in the eye. She was forgiving, but even she had her limits. Never again would she accept him into her arms and her heart. Their bed would remain cold, and she would turn away from him, to live and to raise their daughters alone just as Inuyasha had been by his own mother.

The acidic taste of failure burned through the fragments of pettiness. Sesshomaru _almost_ winced not only at how fleeting the thought was, but also at how real it nearly felt. He was hardly so cowardly as to run from his responsibilities. His actions. But the night was burning past him, and he wondered why he was here instead of tangled in the arms of his wife. Her scathing glare vividly emerged in response and embittered his resolve once more.

It had all started with Rin’s deceit, he tried to remind himself. 

If she had been as upfront with him from the beginning as she promised to be, then perhaps none of this would have happened. After all they had done and said to each other, how could she find it in herself not to _trust_ him?

_He was a father protecting his child._

The corner of Sesshomaru’s lips twitched as he recalled the pointed gesture to her stomach. His refusal to come to his father’s aid to protect his half-brother and the human princess who’d been the mother. How his father’s energy petered out to nothingness as his life ended, and all he could do was watch from afar. 

Wonder how the great Inu no Taishō could fall so far. First glimpses of the woman and his half-brother, ostracized from the court of which they were part due to her connections, but arguably _happy_. His brother, blissful in his ignorance, donning the cloth that his father had painstakingly tailored to Sesshomaru’s confusion.

Faint memories of his mother applying soothing salves to wounds which would not heal after his father’s numerous battles with fire rats to take their pelts. A measure of his love and affection for the hanyō child who could never understand the depths of suffering that his very existence caused. Sesshomaru’s fingers trembled as he thought back to his younger brother kicking around a ball while his mother looked on. Her delicate features, the gentle smile she wore when he tried to entertain her with his antics. Dark eyes flicked up to the distance, and Sesshomaru wondered if, at the time, she could see him as easily as he could her. 

Her gaze lingered long after Inuyasha called for her attention. Her eyes, glistening obsidian jewels, glazed over with tears as they fell to the top of his half-brother’s head. Arms gathered around him, her sleeves enveloping his small form as she held him tight. 

_You used his mother’s image to trick him._

The Mu-on’na couldn’t replicate the look that woman had. Human though she may have been, she was wise and confident in herself. Enough that his mother brought missives of her words. Questions of whether he was faring well and hopes that he would continue to be in good health.

Nothing short of disgust roiled in his chest then, and he cast the words aside. Regrettably refusing to see his mother as long as she continued to entertain his father’s wishes for the woman to be taken care of. His mother brushed off his threats, treating him as no more than a petulant child. Centuries had passed, but he continuously felt her influence in one way or another. It was only when he needed his power to be recognized that she appeared before him again. 

Had he missed her then?

Even with all of her posturing and secrets, she seldom was terrible to him. In her own way, she might have been loving. Their bond had been strong throughout the centuries no matter the distance between them. 

Sesshomaru closed his eyes, and the salty breeze swept through his hair, reminding him of the day he stared at his father’s back for what would have been the last time. 

Had he missed his father when he met his demise?

_You were wrong._

Rin’s voice washed over him, gelid and terse. 

It was typical of her to point out his mistakes. So often did she correct him or try to rationalize with him over one matter or another. To bow her head and say nothing was not her way, and he appreciated her counsel. But those words were an affront to which he refused to give a second thought. 

_I don’t want to do this without you._

His breathing hitched, eyelids falling until he could only view half the world while the other half was shrouded in darkness. 

What was he doing here? 

Uprooting his feet was a troublesome affair, but worthwhile when the memory of her warning replayed in his mind. The _terrifying_ thought of returning to their home — to their quarters — and finding her _gone_. Because she would leave. If she felt it in herself that she had to go, she would disappear. Wouldn’t she?

Never did he expect her to threaten harm upon him, yet she had.

What was to stop her from leaving him as well?

A-Un listened to them both, but he favored Rin greatly. If she were to leave, he could hardly order her to return. She would never listen to him as a mere servant or soldier would at his command. And he would never raise a hand to her.

No matter how she vexed him, that would forever be true. 

The gnarled root he’d unearthed was weeping dirt, the insects hiding beneath it crying as he flew past, and he stalked up the hillside’s incline to avoid the patrolling soldiers. The lattice frame flew to the side with a loud snap echoing through the halls. He cared little for it though, stepping inside and navigating the halls, quick to avoid the few souls still wandering the corridors. As he passed, his face was striped with the moonlight diffusing through the shoji.

Despite walking with purpose, he was puzzled as to what he would say once he laid eyes on her. Pride would never allow him to beg and to plead for her to see reason and stay. Nor would it command her and risk losing not only her respect but also her affections. However, what other options were there? 

Frustration cinched his chest and curled in tight coils around his heart as her voice came to mind. 

_Set aside your prejudice, learn from your mistakes, and be better for it._

Prejudice. He almost wanted to laugh. Any yōkai would agree that hanyō were beneath them. It was simply a fact. They were inconsequentially burdened by their human blood and could not reach the heights of a full-blooded yōkai, let alone a daiyōkai. Humans died easily, they were fragile and relatively weak. Hanyō were diluted with that infernal blood and would distinctly lead less profound lives, never reaching the true potential of their demon heritage all the while being condemned to the fragility of humanity.

Never one without the other.

How else could such an existence be perceived aside from pitiful? 

No union between a human and yōkai ended without tragedy.

His eyes widened slightly, steps slowing to a light click of the heel.

No union between a human and yōkai.

His daughters, his beloved wife. They were hanyō and human respectively. Would they too succumb? He glowered defiantly at the thought, staring into the shadows deepening the end of the corridor where the shoji gave way to wooden walls. 

Rin wasn’t weak. She wouldn’t yield to a fate as grim as that. And their daughters would be protected, he would see to it. 

_Sesshomaru, did you think yourself a god? That life and death were yours to command as long as Tenseiga was at your side? You had to be taught a lesson. The grief and sadness of losing a loved one, and the fear of powerlessness to return them to life._

The memory of her lying there motionless. Still as death, but appearing to be sleeping. There was nothing he could do, and if not for his mother’s love as well as her insatiable curiosity, Rin’s life would have ended there. She couldn’t be returned to life for a third time. If something were to go awry with the birthing, she would either die or be left wounded at the heart. She needed help. To feel such pain time and again, it would only worsen her condition. Loosen her hold on the trust they shared. Would she come to him then if she were at her lowest, or would she turn away from him?

_I’m frightened, Sesshomaru._

His hands fell open at his sides, sleeves falling over them. Fear. Beneath the anger, the sorrow, the _despair_ , she was trying to tell him that she was afraid. 

_I am scared more than you know._

Why didn’t he listen? 

Questions of where she was filled his mind. Stale trails of her scent permeated the corridors for she often traversed the palace, crossing paths with others both in familiar haunts and in search of new ones. Fresher trails lingered outside of her study, and his heart skipped a beat when he slid the door open. The candle long extinguished, a ghostly silver hue was cast over the chest of scrolls adorned with his father’s sigil. Two scents were felt heavily as he stepped inside — Rin’s and his mother’s. The latter’s stronger, and to his chagrin, he noticed a scroll still undone on Rin’s desk. His mother’s calligraphy, not a drop of ink wasted, greeted him with a message.

_Pride isn’t the absence of shame but its source._

Sesshomaru’s brow furrowed as he swiped up the scroll, half-tempted to burn it through with his poison until his gaze swept over the words yet again. Shame. He didn’t feel shame whatsoever . 

_Little brother._

Inuyasha’s eyes came to mind. Stricken, wide, unrelenting despite the fear he must have felt in the face of such overwhelming power. Resolved to protect his companion with all that he had no matter how inferior. Those eyes, which once were innocent and loving, never once glanced upon him with such joy. His brother had always harbored distrust toward him.

_You justified your actions against him._

His father. His loss. It was to defend Inuyasha and his mother, but his brother had never even _met_ the man who saved him. All he had was a sword, a robe, a broken lineage, a world that looked down upon him — 

And a brother who rejected him simply for existing.

Sesshomaru’s hand tightened around the scroll’s knobs as he sank down beside the pillow covered in Rin’s scent. He could imagine her bent over the scrolls as she read account after account. Worrying herself to pieces only to connect them again and to move on as she always had. 

Unrelenting, stubborn, and alone. 

He should have been beside her, answered the questions she had to the best of his ability, and held her for the ones he could not.

_She didn’t trust me, but what reason did I give her to do so?_

Regret was a feeling Sesshomaru was not accustomed to. He hated it. The twisting, meandering thralls of guilt crushing his heart in its grasp, trying to find fault in others yet only being able to see the error of his own ways. Rin had tried to speak to him, had lingered in her own mind in hopes of discovering the best way to convince him — out of _fear_ of his reaction. 

Had he only proven her right?

_I know you. You **despise** hanyō._

The scroll was placed on the desk. His hands resting on his knees as he reminisced . Children were never a topic they would broach. Rin was happy to look after the children on the palace grounds. She was beloved by those in the village where she was raised, and others flocked to her once their fears were assuaged in realizing that she was a friend and not a demon’s subject. Had there been a time where she tried to speak to him about it? Would he have been receptive?

His happiness was set in facets, but the most relevant one was heavily tied to hers. Their marriage had been a turning point in his lengthy existence. He would never regret having her as his bride and resolved to make her happy for the rest of her days. 

_And yet I was the cause of her tears - her distress - her **pain**._

Rin. 

She had never spoken to him about children in fear of this, and inadvertently, when the opportunity arose, she tried to explain, but he turned her away.

Turned his back on her.

_I am an exception then._

Her words whispered close to his ear, and he opened his eyes, glancing toward the pillow beside him and faltering on the flowers embroidered in its soft fabric. 

_No, you are the reason._

Sesshomaru tied up the scroll his mother had written and rose. His strides about the grounds were deliberate. Heartbeat deafening as he prayed to the gods that his wife hadn’t left him in the dead of night. Attendants and personnel close to their quarters promptly dismissed themselves upon seeing him, likely feeling the refusal of their presence as he approached. Standing outside of their room, his hand hovered near the wooden door pull adorned with Rin’s craftsmanship. His knuckle brushed against the grain tenderly before he hooked his fingers in and slid it open.

The room was fairly dark. If not for his vision, he wouldn’t have been able to see Rin’s form curled beneath their comforter. She didn’t look up when he entered, though he felt the slight twitch of wakefulness in her spirit as the door shut behind him. The scroll in hand was pressed firmly to his palm as he noticed her essence level out — wary, but waiting. His footsteps were slow as he went to the chests tucked in the corner of the room where the stands for his armor and swords were located. Bakusaiga was silent, but Tenseiga pulsed dully, beckoning him in a saddened, melodic ring, uncannily similar to the tune of Rin’s songs. Sesshomaru’s lips quirked as he brushed his knuckles against the sword’s hilt. 

Even the blade bequeathed to him by his father adored his wife more than it did him. 

He could hardly blame it. Rin took care of Tenseiga more than he had in the past, and refused to leave it behind, whether for his sake or for respect of the sword’s meaning. The scroll was tucked away in one of the lower drawers, a shuffling clunk echoing as the doors were removed and items were reassorted to make space for it. A mental note to have words with his mother at a later date were set aside at the weight of the situation at hand. 

He drew in a deep breath then exhaled through his nose, the rush of warm hair cooled along his upper lip, loud in the room’s stillness. “Rin…”

Though she didn’t respond, he felt the twinge in her energy and raised his gaze to the faint moonlight filtering dustily through the slats of the window. 

“We need to talk. Properly.”

“Is that not what we did before?”

Her voice wasn’t rough with sleep, but it was scratchy, and somewhat thin, as if she’d been crying. Discomfort twisted Sesshomaru’s stomach into knots as he went to sit at the edge of their futon. Rin’s back was still to him, the pillows laden with her hair still damp from the bath. His eyes softened at the scent of sweetened blossoms, tart with brackish tears. Urges to null his concerns and gather her in his arms, gifting apologies in gentle squeezes and presence, were set aside. Rin wouldn’t receive him as he was now. She hardly deigned to _look_ at him. 

“No,” Sesshomaru admitted, recalling the argument in keen detail. Every infraction on his part and every plea from her lips. “Not in the slightest.”

When she didn’t raise her head, he resolved to stay. Knees set beneath him and back straight, hands resting in his lap as he listened to her uneven breaths. He wanted to lay by her side. Assure her that he was there with her, but he couldn’t accept things to remain as they were. 

It hardly mattered how much time she needed. He would wait to rectify his wrongs if it would mean bringing her smile back to him. 

Slowly, Rin sat up. Her hair slipped over her shoulders as she twisted about in the comforter to face forward. Not quite looking at him but not turned away either. Her hands fidgeted in the soft stuffing at the outer edges of the blanket as if she were unsure of what to do with them. His heart quivered in understanding. He’d seen the gesture before he left for a skirmish or during tense moments in councils. Beneath the table, away from the prying eyes of others, his hand would brush hers, and she’d calm.

Turning her hand palm-ward up to hold his own, a quick glance speaking of her gratitude. 

_Do you want me to hold you now, Rin?_

He could barely see her eyes past her hair’s veil, but he knew the expression she wore from the sullen aura she emanated. 

And not once did she deserve to endure such feelings of defeat.

“… Am I not meant to be hurt by your words, Rin?” He asked, careful to keep the contempt from his voice. It was hardly deserved, but he was eager to know. “Your anger?” 

Rin inhaled deeply. “… Hurting you wasn’t my intention.”

“You threatened to take my children and _you_ away from me,” Sesshomaru softened his voice when he noticed the twitch in her shoulders. “… Children I was not told existed.”

“Sesshomaru,” Rin stated. The call was firm in spite of her breath catching. “I am not ashamed that you are their father. But If I were to look at you, _claim_ to love you without acknowledging your wrongdoings, is that truly love? Or blind adoration?”

She turned her head toward him now. Her brown eyes, reddened and puffy from tears but compelling. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. For her to accept him, all of him, was an action that he had not known was possible. There was much he hid from her out of sake of keeping appearances, but she was adept at finding her way past his walls. Vulnerability was a peril akin to death. Yet every time she managed to crumble his callous demeanor, he felt not a single risk. There were some who would compliment him and voice empty promises for hopes of his aid. She who was closest to him knew more of him than anyone yet asked for nothing until now:

His understanding.

“Would loving me be enough to set your hate aside? Would _they_ be enough?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sesshomaru enunciated, repulsed by the desperation for her to comprehend. To _end_ this. Hadn’t she shed enough tears? “Do you not understand?”

“How could I?!” They both seemed taken aback by her voice cracking as it raised. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover it, fingers pressed to her cheek. Sesshomaru turned his head away from her, unable to bear hearing her frenzied voice. “… We never talked about this.”

No, they hadn’t. And he knew why. Rin knew him well and anticipated his reactions, or she perhaps was fearful of them. His constant bickering with Inuyasha might have only cemented such a belief. She had made a choice, but once their children had come to her knowledge, had that choice been taken from her? Did his absence lead to her being hasty, or had they both been led astray?

This hadn’t started with Rin’s deceit at all.

No, it had been him.

The weight of the realization prompted him to close his eyes, but he couldn’t block out the regret. It was his weight to bear. He drove her away and placed blame upon her head by turning his back to her. She was fearful and needed him as her husband, but he could hardly rise to meet her needs due to his own pride blinding him to what was between them. Every tear she shed was by his own hand. How could he have —

“Stop it.”

Sesshomaru’s breath caught in his throat as his head was pillowed against a familiar warmth. Blossoms and tears, honeysuckle and the musty scent of books— it enveloped him just as comfortably as Rin’s arms did. He hardly noticed when she entered his space, and from the tight squeeze, he only just realized dully that he had been speaking his thoughts aloud. Knelt before him, she held him to her stomach and combed her fingers through his hair. This wasn’t a reprieve, but it was care.

“You don’t have to forgive me,” Rin murmured as she sat back on her legs, guiding him forward into a tighter embrace. 

How could she care so deeply?

His hand flattened against the small of her back. “I am the one who should ask for mercy,” he sighed after a few moments of silence. 

He’d had enough time to think of this: where the line was drawn, who his anger was directed towards, and the image of silver and red in mind was steadily erased — replaced by one much older whose back he’d gleaned most his life.

“I meant what I told you. My anger does not dwell with… Inuyasha…”

Rin squeezed him, cutting off his words. “Sesshomaru, you don’t have to…”

He pressed his hand to her back. “ _Rin_ ,” he said softly, his voice softening to a whisper. “… Please.”

Her hold on him loosened, and as she pulled back from him, her fingers slipped from his hair, touching the marks upon his cheeks gently. 

“… Okay.”

She didn’t smile. An understanding shone in her eyes as he sighed and leant into her touch, letting her hold his face lightly between her palms. 

“… When I was a boy, I idolized my father… but he left. Time and time again, he was away and I would wait for his return. Gifts at the ready, drawings, letters, and activities for us to do together. I was told it was unbecoming of a boy to do such a thing, and my father had more important matters to handle. My attempts were often tarnished or ridiculed by others before he could see, so I refrained.”

He recalled the torn pieces outlined with drawings of smiling figures, burnt to a crisp in the torch’s flames. The sneering faces which looked down upon him later on quivering before him at the sheer force of his power. 

“I grew bitter. My father was away so often, it felt as though he cared little for me although I had achieved much. Tenseiga felt like an insult. I became the perfect son, as my tutors and elders molded me to be, but he couldn’t give me what I deserved… what I _felt_ I deserved at the time…”

_Sesshomaru, do you have someone to protect?_

He hardly felt he needed it. His father cared too deeply for others and it would lead to his end. It _had_ led to his end. If he could gain strength to surpass his father without caring for anyone, then did that not mean he learned from him?

“When he died for Inuyasha and his mother, all I could see was the man that had abandoned me, who chose to _die_ for them rather than live for me.”

It was selfish, juvenile, cold, and empty. His hand pressed to Rin’s back and brought her closer to him as if he could drown out the memory in her embrace. 

“Inuyasha was my father’s chosen son, his favored child. Directing my anger toward him was easier because, at the very least, he still lived.”

Rin’s fingers threaded in the strands of hair slipping past his ears and tipped his head back with a gentle press of her palms to her jaw. 

“Yet, it was unfulfilling..” She whispered, drawing the words from the depths of his heart. “Because he wasn’t born guilty of what your father had done. Or the pain you endured.”

Sesshomaru was almost taken aback by how acutely she summed it. Though, he should have hardly been surprised, something tremored inside. His hands found purchase on her sides, and she allowed the hold.

“He was free from it all. The duties of a lord’s son, the pain of losing a father — he had done nothing but exist, and yet I despised him all the same.”

What worth could he possibly have to their lord father? He was weak, small, and insignificant.

No longer. 

“His mother asked of my wellbeing til the day she died, but I hated the humans my father strove to protect. She only served as a reminder.”

“Izayoi knew you…?”

“My mother told me often of her missives, and I refused to speak of her any longer. When we arrived at my mother’s palace that day, it was the first time we’d spoken in centuries.”

He still clearly remembered that day. He turned his back on his mother as well. It was no wonder she hadn’t come to his aid when he was in pain or close to death. Though, he hardly thought he needed her. It certainly made sense. 

“In the courts, hanyō are beneath daiyōkai. They are tainted, and because of my father’s exploits, no matter how well-meaning, it only serves as a cautionary tale. To take a human as one’s bride or husband would only doom them to death.”

“And yet you have…” Rin said breathily, her voice spurred Sesshomaru to glance up at her.

He had. 

In a way that he had never thought possible, he understood his father well. 

“You were the first human I allowed close to me. No… The first being.”

And he’d come so close to losing her on more than one occasion.

Rin smiled, a merciful sadness to her eyes. “Even if we never married and only remained as friends, I wouldn’t have abandoned you..”

_Your threats_.

They were not empty words. She always spoke with intent. 

Disappointment flickered across his face. Her sigh fanned across the bridge of his nose as she leant forward, resting her forehead against his own. 

“Sesshomaru… my words, they were true. I would not want to do this without you... But try to understand me…”

Her eyes shuttered, glazed over with tears. Panic throbbed in his chest, and he pressed his forehead to her own. The slight widening of her eyes and appreciation in the gentle curve of her smile was worth the pain.

“While you are their father, I am their mother, and if something goes awry — I may not be the only one who perishes.”

Sesshomaru clutched the back of her yukata tightly. “You will not—”

Her eyes twitched at the corners, bidding him to silence. Despite the quiet refusal, she touched his cheek gently and combed his hair behind his ear, tracing the points idly.

“You have done terrible things, Sesshomaru. That I can’t deny,” she said, thoughtful and repentant. “But it isn’t my place to forgive you. I love you and your faults.”

Her hands drew away from his face, trailing down the length of his arms to her back where she unhinged his claws from her yukata. For a moment, Sesshomaru forgot how to breathe when she laid his hand flat against her stomach then pressed each finger to her skin. 

“This child — these _children_ — may resent us for what makes us imperfect, but I will still love them.”

He drew his gaze from her stomach to her eyes. “You question whether I will…”

Rin sighed. “I only wish to hear you,” she said.“You mean what you say, and you say what you mean — to me, you’ve never spoken a lie. Do not start now.”

The air felt calmer and quieter as she waited for him. Her words plunged deep into his heart. This was her reconciliation, her demand, her choice. 

If he refused, then she would be lost to him.

They all would.

_Is this it, father? Is this the choice you had to make all those years ago?_

“The three of you will survive this, and remain in this Sesshomaru’s protection and heart for all time,” he said firmly. Rin’s expression softened, and she ran her fingers over the back of his own. “Do you doubt your place, Rin?”

She smiled sweetly, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was perhaps the hardest to write simply because the conflicting emotions could be understood on both sides. As the writer, being divulged information of how Sesshomaru felt coupled with how Rin felt made for their altercation to be a mixed bag. There are points on both sides and halving the chapters between one and the other allowed for both sides to be shown. I feel that at the end of this, they've come to a shaky compromise. Their children are going to be born and for them ( Sesshomaru and Rin ) to stay together, they have to learn to look past their prejudices and misgivings for the _children's_ sake. Which is in an incredibly difficult thing to do when their feelings for a reason or another are justified in their own mind. 
> 
> I might write a few more things _after_ this and _before_ the birth of the girls. Because there are some things to touch on in relation to Sesshomaru's relationship with Inuyasha, Tōga, and Inukimi while Rin has her own issues to battle with people to support her ( Kaede, Kagome, Sango, etc. ). All in all, I'm really happy that this was seen through to fruition and I'm excited for the future of this series and also tackling some of the projects that I have in the works to bring this story together. 
> 
> I would also like to thank ladiekoro on Twitter for being the first reader and editor of this fic. Without their help, this wouldn't have been possible as quickly as it was. 
> 
> Anyroad, that was a little long-winded but I want to say - to you, the reader, **thank you for reading Talking to the Moon**.
> 
> I hope you had as much enjoyment out of this as I did and to see you in future projects.
> 
> As always, if you wish to see more of my updates and writing process - find me on Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and Pillowfort at **unlockthelore**. I also write original fiction on **Tapas**.
> 
> With that being said, see you next time.


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